a wonderful combination
by Stargirl-ish
Summary: "They are a symbol of his past, a representation of his future. An embodiment of courage and bravery and nobility. But they are also his entire past and the whole of his future lain out before him." Birthday Fic.


_**Hello all! I'm alive! And I'm writing! You guys should be proud of me. XD **_

_**Okay, so... I've been working on this oneshot for two weeks, since June 7th. I finished it the night before last... and I have now edited it. It is, quite honestly, my best work to date... and I'm very proud of it. **_

_**It was inspired by the amazing Nameless Sky, who's birthday was on the 7th. She was gone for a while, and I wanted to surprise her with this. Go check out her works, like, NOW. ;)**_

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**_Prompts: Gold, Red__, _**

**"Gold is such a pitiful substance, if one truly thinks about it. It bends to the will of a metal smith, twisting and shaping to its master's will. Then again… maybe that is why he is so fond of it.",**

**and**

**"The world went black as the sky did, as of the two events were intertwined into one event of completely snuffed out light."**

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh. I wish I did, though. :P**

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**_a wonderful combination_**

**_.~._**

It has always shocked him—how easy it is for something, something as trivial and common as color to impact someone's life so deeply. Even he, the King of Thieves, he who is feared by all and seen by none, has seen this anomaly first hand. In fact, he has _experienced_ it.

But somehow... he _knows_. He knows that, without color, nothing would be real. Color is what makes things feel _alive._

Even if his metaphorical universe were to go as dark and shadowy as a moonless, cloudy night... there is always color to lead the way out—a path leading away from oblivion.

And he knows that, if he doesn't lose sight of these colors, these emotions, each with a plethora of memories attached, he will achieve his goals. No matter what else he loses along the way.

Because his colors, colors that have memories attached to them… are all that he has left.

**He has never understood why...** but he has always been drawn to the color gold. Like a crow to silver—it has always attracted his attention. It has been this way throughout his entire career as a thief.

Even if he could change this, he never would. It's his way, his mark. His signature.

_It's how he became the way he is._

Gold is such a pitiful substance, if one truly thinks about it. It bends to the will of a metal smith, twisting and shaping to its master's will. Then again… maybe that is why he is so fond of it.

With the help of some heat, a few tools, and a mold—he can change it into anything that he so desires.

_Anything material, at the very least…_

He can manipulate it and control it… but first, he must steal it. And that, of course, is his favorite part.

He has always taken pride in his work, as il of a reputation as it has.

One of the older village boys had once told him that there was a certain amount of exhilaration that came with stealing; that once he got his first taste of the feeling… he'd be hooked.

_The boy had been right._

He can remember his first thieving expedition as if it were preserved in stone. He was young, somewhere around seven years of age. He'd been nervous… but he'd been excited as well.

He was with a select group of the other village children, ones that had been picked out of all of the other village children for skill and stealth. There were many thieves in the village of Kul Elna, and every few years, they'd take the children who proved to have the most potential out for testing.

The first thing that he stole was a set of bangles. They were beautiful, plain and pure gold. And they were from the pyramids.

His mother had worn them with a smile when she had presented them to her, his eyes alight with glee. His father had looked at him with something akin to pride in his eyes, patting him on the back.

And the village elders? They were shocked beyond belief.

It was rare, practically unheard of for a child to surpass the numerous traps in one of the temples, let alone come out unscathed. Not even counting the fact that he was a _young _child.

From that day on, he was known as the Prince of Thieves.

All because of those bangles, bangles that were pure gold and thin and gorgeous. Bangles that were from the pyramids.

He has always found it ironic that the color gold could lead to such a lucrative and cunning practice before causing him such raw and dark and horrifying despair.

_Yes, there are many reasons why gold is significant to him, many reasons indeed._

**He has never understood why…** but the color red has always been drawn to him. It follows him everywhere— a ruby trail, a crimson shadow. It is his past as well as his future: from what he's seen and done to what he will, one day, see and do.

Maybe it's Fate, or maybe he's just unlucky…

_He thinks it's Fate. _

And so he wouldn't change his past, even if it were possible. It is what has shaped him, what has made him who he is today.

If he could go back to that event—that horrible, dark, and bloody day— and change everything that occurred throughout it…. he wouldn't have a future to come back to.

He would no longer belong.

He is too damaged. From his mental scars to the one slashed across his face, he is too damaged. His mind is as scorched and broken as the buildings that he grew up in.

Since that day, red has been a daily part of his life. He sees it when he closes his eyes, when he looks at himself in the few pools of water that he comes across. It taunts him, making him remember things that would be best if left forgotten.

He is grateful for it.

It keeps him objective. It keeps him moving. It keeps him from giving up and letting the darkness lurking in the recesses of his subconscious take over.

It keeps _him_ under control.

**And so**, he has always maintained a certain fondness for those colors, the colors red and gold.

They are a symbol of his past, a representation of his future. An embodiment of courage and bravery and nobility.

But they are also his entire past and the whole of his future lain out before him.

They are the simmer of bullion, the pungent odor of burning flesh, and the crimson of blood. They are an enormous cauldron of bodies and disturbed, restless souls and beautiful, _pure_,precious metal.

And somehow, he _knows_. He knows what will become of him, and what he has become. He knows that, when this is over, his soul will no longer be his own.

He finds it fitting, in poetic and bittersweet sort of a way. What was once—and still is—his drive and his motivation will, one day, aid his downfall. When he reaches the end of his path, he will have to surrender himself, his name, and all of his memories.

But in his last moments, he will have the Millenium Items, and he will forfeit his soul in a shower of crimson, with gold grasped tightly in his hands and royal attire stolen from the pyramids.

_Yes, it's a very suitable end for him, The King of Thieves. _

After all, the colors red and gold have always been a wonderful combination.

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_**Thank you, Ev. You're so awesome, and you're my best friend. You've been so supportive of me, and you always manage to put me in a good mood. I went totally nuts without you last week. XD So I'm really happy you're back. I hope you like this.**_

_**Special thanks to Wammy'sHouseReject, for supplying me with prompts and opinions; anime-on-replay, for a prompt that gave me direction; thank you, Taomerline, for giving me advice; and thank you The Lady Avaritia, for giving me the confidence to actually put this up on the internet. XD**_

_**Please review, peeps?**_


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